Canyon Ranch
by hoovahoopah
Summary: Lily is sorry. Set in season four. After everyone finds out that Lily is a hot mess of a parent. Not that we didn't know. Awkotaco, I never finished watching Gossip Girl. I don't even know what's happening. I wrote this forever ago. It was a thing. Complete fic. No moarz.


She's perched on one of the balcony chairs, coffee in her hand, blonde hair tangled and blowing in the early morning breeze. One leg is tucked neatly under the rest of her body, the other propped up on the chair. The sun is just peeking over the horizon and Lily runs a hand through her hair, looking off into the distance. She hears Rufus stir in the bedroom behind her and she pauses briefly to make sure he's still asleep.

"Rufus?" her voice is still raspy, unused.

He mumbles something in his sleep and it sounds vaguely like he's discussing primates quite seriously with his daughter.

She laughs softly before looking down into her almost empty mug. Christmas has come and gone, as has the New Year, and she wonders what will happen once the holiday is over. She's surprised he's here of course, surprised he'd shown up at all given the circumstances, but as her mother pointed out, was she really?

Lily knows everything will change once they're home, once the Canyon Ranch sunrises are well behind them and they are met with the disapproval of their children. She's weak and scared, all too much like her mother, sipping cocktails and lattes and cucumber water at the spa while her children are scattered across the world. Eric called on Christmas, Jenny too. Eric was polite and nervous, where Jenny was sweet and forgiving. Dan called for Rufus and Lily could hear his disappointment in his father through the phone.

"You're with her?"

Lily left the room, in search of an esthetician that wouldn't leave her skin blotchy and raw.

She had hoped Cece would have been just as angry as the others but found her mother to be more agreeable than she had ever been, thus proving Lily's midlife crisis might be a little more after all.

"I don't see why you're so upset, Lily darling. You did what had to be done."

"You would have done the same thing?"

"Of course, to protect us. You're so much more like me than you realize, Lillian."

And then there was Rufus. He'd shown up four days later, disheveled and angry but loving and sweet as always. He'd kissed her and asked her where to put his bags before they spent the rest of the day in an awkward silence. He warmed up slowly, as he always did but she could tell she wasn't forgiven yet.

Which brings them here, the end of the holiday fast approaching and the responsibility of the city looming overhead.

"Lil?" she hears him kicking the blankets around in an attempt to get out of bed. "What are you doing up so early?"

She turns to look at him, "Just watching the sunrise. Go back to sleep, it's early."

He's already sitting up, yawning with his hair matted and messy, "No, 'sokay."

"Rufus," she starts, setting her coffee down on the glass table as she tries to get up.

"You look pretty right there," he notes, rubbing one eye. "With the sun and everything."

She smiles softly, "You can really go back to sleep."

He gets up, pulling his t-shirt down over his stomach, "It's ok." He walks over to her and she smiles at his crooked path, his sleepy lethargy charming and boyishly cute. And suddenly she can't remember the last time he touched her, really touched her, and suddenly she's terrified of the future and the happiness she thought she finally had. She feels her heart beating faster and he's next to her, running a hand through his hair as he looks out across the horizon. "It's really beautiful."

She nods, a lump forming in her throat and something heavy on her chest. "I love you," she says forcefully, desperately.

He looks at her in surprise, it sounds like something between an admission and a plea. He doesn't know where to place it and he doesn't know where to place them. All he can do is look at her and he sees the way her eyes fade, the way she shrinks back when she's hurt and the way she's trying to pretend her heart didn't just drop into her stomach.

She wraps her sweater tighter around herself, mumbling something about being cold before she gets up, brushing past him and into the bathroom. She locks the door, something foreign and odd, before she turns on the shower and steps in, forgetting about her nightgown. The water is scalding and the silk sticks to her body in all the wrong places. She's too thin, the stress and the hysteria have completely diminished her appetite and with all the yoga nothing fits the way it should.

It only takes a few minutes and then he's trying to open the bathroom door, "Why would you lock the door?" he rattles the doorknob a few times. "Damn it, Lily. Open the door!"

She ignores him, running her hands over the soaked silk as she tries to remember a time when they had ever gotten it right. She's slow in her movements and in her mind. She remembers the flirtation, the mystery, the friendship but she can't seem to place their relationship, their marriage, under any category other than confused.

He's pounding on the door now, his fist colliding with the wood, "Lily, open the damn door."

The mirror is fogged and it's all she can do to get out of the shower and unlock the door. She takes a few steps back, waiting for Rufus to push a little too hard. He does, falling forward into the bathroom, slipping on the wet tile when he tries to take a step. "Damn it, Lily!" he catches himself on the counter, looking up at her with angry eyes. "What are you doing?"

She stares at him, her arms hanging limply by her sides, droplets of water falling from her hair, "Showering."

"No shit," he shakes his head, pushing himself off the counter. "Fine." He steps back out into the room. "Don't let me disturb you."

"That's it?"

"That's it." He walks away, his posture slumped.

She turns on her heel, stepping back into the shower, "Bullshit."

"No," he turns back around. "What's bullshit is what you did to your kids. Bullshit is how you treat me. Bullshit is you being cold. Everything up to this point, Lily?" he's nearly shouting, "It's absolute and total bullshit!"

"No one is making you stay here," she bites out. "You're here of your own fucking volition so don't start."

"And no one is forcing you fuck over your children! That's all you." He points at her, her back to him now. "And you won't apologize and you won't even acknowledge that I'm here trying to forgive you for something unforgivable, Lily!"

"You make your choices, just like I make mine."

"My choices are nothing like yours!" he grabs her shoulders, turning her around to face him. "You've been nothing but selfish and calculating and manipulative since the fucking moment I met you," he pushes her against the shower wall. "And I have forgiven you for everything."

"Rufus, stop it," she squirms.

"The fights we used to have, the guitars you broke, the tour stops we never got to, my broken heart, marriage after fucking marriage, the teasing" he presses himself up against her and she can't help the soft moan that escapes. "The fucking teasing and the affairs with anyone but me, the kids, the baby and this. I should be done, I should walk away," his voice is low, gravelly and so fucking hot.

"I'm sorry," she can barely breathe, all she can do is look at him, feel him against her and she thinks she might cry from the magnitude of it all.

"Are you?" he moves his hands to her cheeks then slowly up into her hair. "Are you really? Because I can't believe you are."

"Rufus," she rasps, her arms grasping at his wrists. "Rufus, please," she can barely breathe and she sounds so fucking desperate it hurts her own ears.

"Please what?"

They're both soaked, the water still scalding and Lily can't feel her fingers anymore. He won't let go and she wonders if it means he's here to stay or if he's ready to say his last goodbyes. She shifts her weight to one foot, then the other as she looks anywhere but his face.

"Look at me, Lily. God damn it, just look at me."

She knows the second she looks up into those beautiful green eyes she'll see everything she needs to know. He's never been able to hide a thing from her, "I can't."

"You can't? Or you won't?" he presses harder against her and she gives a soft cry, suddenly remembering what it's like to be so close to him.

"I can't," she looks down at his chest, her insides twisting. "Rufus… I can't."

"If you can't even look at me…" his voice breaks, "Then I can't do this anymore."

She finally lets out the pathetic sob she's been holding in, her body collapsing against his, her hands clenched into tight fists and she can feel her nails digging into the palms of her hands. "Rufus," she chokes.

"What, Lily?" he keeps her close, his hands still tangled in her wet hair. "What?"

"I love you," she heaves, another sob causes her chest to expand against his. "All I've done… is miss you," she can't breathe and she can't support her body. "I can't…" she hiccups, "I can't look up and… and watch you hate me anymore."

He holds her close, their bodies close under the hot water as he brings her face up to look at him, "Look at me."

"Please don't," she whispers.

"I don't hate you. Look at me and you'll know that much," he mumbles against her forehead, pressing a soft kiss to her wet skin. She's shaking against him and Rufus wraps his arms tightly around her, "Lily, please."

"Please forgive me."

"I'm trying," he kisses her forehead again. "Believe me, Lil. I'm trying."

She looks up at him then and she sees the distance in his eyes, the empty space she used to fill somehow. She sees the ways they've both changed and she can barely recognize him anymore. She thinks they're strangers in their own marriage, to each other, and maybe always were. "How do I fix it?"

"I don't know, Lil."

His eyes meet hers again and she knows he'll always love her. He'll always be in love with her. It's the way he's looked at her all along.

"I don't either," she mumbles, her voice small. "But… I want to."


End file.
